


The Jack of Hearts

by I_Will_Gladly_Join_The_Fight



Series: We're All a Deck of Cards [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: AND FUCKING PEGGY, ASL, Alexander needs to chill, College AU, Debate Team, Depression, F/F, F/M, Fencing is a thing you know, Freckles, Henry Laurens' A+ Parenting, John is a fourth Schuyler sister, John is just as smart in his own field as Hamilton why do you people make him an idiot, John's a premed, John's a vegetarian, Lafayette - Freeform, M/M, Modern AU, Multilingual Lams, Past Abuse (referenced), Peaches the Turtle, Spanish, fuck donald trump, google translate french, that actually isn't relevant but needs to be said
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-10-18 02:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10607820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Will_Gladly_Join_The_Fight/pseuds/I_Will_Gladly_Join_The_Fight
Summary: The way John saw it, the beginning of the end began when he grabbed Lafayette’s phone and sprinted out of the apartment without shoes on.-(A Modern AU)





	1. One

The way John saw it, the beginning of the end began when he grabbed Lafayette’s phone and sprinted out of the apartment without shoes on.

That made no sense, like most of the other things in his screwed up life, but he was done complaining. Life was crazy and unfair, but sometimes it was amazing, and he wouldn't trade his life for anyone else's. _But_ if he wanted to start from where it had all went so wonderfully right and horribly wrong, it would be when he stole Lafayette’s phone and ran.

 

**Part One: Rise Up**

 

John glanced back as he sprinted through the crowded New York City sidewalk, laughing breathlessly to himself as he caught sight of an irate Lafayette a block and a half behind. He upped his pace, feeling the vibration of an incoming call through his coat. Laf would have to run much faster if he wanted to find out what a certain Miss _Adrienne_ had to say to him.

John skidded to a stop at a corner, frantically urging the street light to turn green. He resisted the impulse to answer the call before it went to voicemail; he wasn’t that cruel. He glanced behind him again to check for Lafayette, and he cursed when he saw him only half a block away now, shoving through the crowds just like he had. The two college students made eye contact for a split second, and John didn’t like the murder he could see in his friend’s eyes.

John glanced at the streetlight again, but it was the same fiery red it had been three seconds ago. He took a moment to consider the busy rush hour traffic, weighed it against the risk of facing the angry Frenchman, decided to take the course of action he had the highest chance of surviving.

John sprinted across the intersection into oncoming traffic, dodging cabs and waving sheepishly at honking cars. When a particularly loud and violent horn blast came from _right fucking besides him holy fucking shit_ he jumped out of his skin and slid across the hood of a taxi that seemed exceptionally intent on running him over. He glared at the driver who was loudly and expressively cussing him out, and John returned in kind by flipping him off as he continued on, darting and spinning through traffic until he made it to the opposite sidewalk. He hit the white concrete and took off in a dead sprint, not risking a glance behind him. Lafayette was probably at the corner by now, but John was banking on Laf having more than the half ounce of common sense John was given which allowed him to make decisions like run out of an apartment into oncoming traffic in his socks.

John was acutely reminded of that last fact as he stepped in a puddle of melted snow, the freezing water sopping through his sock, causing him to curse even more violent. Looking back, it really hadn’t been a good idea run out into twenty-degree weather in just socks, but it wasn’t like he had time to lace up his winter boots. He had barely managed to grab a jacket before Laf was on top of him, wrestling for his phone back as the screen lit up.

Two more blocks were taken in a dead sprint and in no time the college was in front of him, and he bounded up the slippery steps, taking three at once (Which in retrospect was another shitty idea, but what else was new). He checked behind him again, looking for Lafayette, and his foot hit a particularly icy patch on the stairs, and then his feet weren’t underneath him anymore, and the world became a constant cycle of cement, gray sky, and pain (Well the pain part was a constant, but whatever. Tangents). Cursing violently and flailing his limbs John attempted to slow his descent, but he couldn’t stop his downward momentum and he landed in a nasty puddle of sludge and snow, the phone falling out of his pocket and lying besides him.

John laid there for a minute blinking and processing the last couple seconds. There was a dull throbbing pain in his left knee and wrist, and he didn’t want to dwell on the icy water he could feel seeping into his clothes through his jacket. He moaned, and stared up at the sky, idly watching the pigeons fly overhead and waiting for the inevitable.

He really should have grabbed shoes.

“Oh, look at what we ‘ave ‘ere.” A taunting voice came from above him. John groaned and shifted his gaze to the smirking Frenchman looming over him.

“Hey Laf.” He managed to get out, earning a glare

“John, why?” Lafayette sighed, reaching down and hauling John to his feet.

“I offer no explanation, _(Fuck you that's why)_ and now I’m freezing and soaking wet. Is Hercules still at the apartment? I need socks, boots, and if possible an entirely new outfit.” John grumbled, scrunching his nose and running his fingers through his curly hair tied back in a ponytail, dislodging clumps of snow.

“No, he ‘as already left, he was following us out the door, only a bit more slowly.” Lafayette responded, and John groaned.

“Fucking Hell. Debate team is going to be miserable.” He muttered, and Lafayette laughed. “It is no one’s fault but your own. And I will be taking zis.” He stooped down and picked up his phone, inspecting it for damage. He sighed when he saw the missed call and accompanying voicemail, and glared at John.

“I believe you have learned your lesson, but next time I will not be so kind.” He threatened, and turned and stalked up the stairs, much more carefully than John had earlier. John watched him for a few seconds before Laf paused and looked back at John.

“You had better come inside, your toes will freeze and fall off soon if you don’t.” He informed him gravely, and John was suddenly aware of the burning sensation in his toes as they slowly went numb. “Fucking Hell.” He grumbled again, and he dashed up the stairs, past Laf and into the warmth of college.

\-----

The college did in fact bring warmth, but it just made him even more aware of his soaking wet clothes, which put him in a foul mood. Stupid fucking Lafayette.

He started to walk through the lobby, glancing briefly at the lost and found area to see if there was something that would fit him. Walking closer, he came across a pair of boots that looked like his size, but upon closer examination they were a size too small, which worsened his mood even more.

“Hey Laurens, forget anything?” He heard another familiar voice from behind him, and he cursed again, groaning inwardly as he turned around.

“Fuck you Mulligan.” John said, but he doubted that Herc could hear him over the laughing fit he and Lafayette were having.

“Hey, did this to yourself man. In what world would grabbing Laf’s phone and running turn out well?” Hercules replied, wiping away tears of mirth.

“I repeat my earlier statement. Fuck. You.” John glared, and Hercules grinned.

“In your dreams Laurens.”

John fought to keep a scowl on his face, then gave up and winked.

“You wish you had a piece of this.” He gestured to himself, and the three of them laughed, and headed towards the Revolution headquarters.

“Did you guys hear about Angelica shutting Burr down last night at the festival?” Hercules asked, and John chuckled, his minute-long bad mood coming to an end.

“ _Yes_ . It was _excellent_. Burr came at her trying to make a move, and she threw it back in his face, along with a lecture on feminism and an attack on Jefferson. She was amazing.” He chattered, grinning as he replayed the scene again in his head, remembering Burr’s expression.

“She is a fearsome warrior.” Lafayette agreed, and they came upon the debate room, one of John’s favourite places in the universe. He got to argue till he was blue in the face and then get _praised_ for it. It was _great_.

John peered through the classroom’s window, scoping out who arrived before them, and his gaze landed on Burr, well more specifically, the guy besides Burr, and his eyebrows shot up.

“Hey. Heyheyheyheyheyhey. Guys. Guys! Who's the dude with Burr?” He asked, kicking Hercules’ shin to get his attention.

“No idea. But if he's with Burr…” Hercules responded, trailing off meaningfully. John nodded in agreement, but smirked.

“He's cute.”

“ _Non_. John, you must leave the poor boy alone for at least ten minutes.” Lafayette begged, but John flipped him off and smirked again.

“I will do whatever I want, don't try and control me french fry.” He stated gleefully, turning and looking through the window again. “And he has long hair. _In a ponytail_. You can't tell me nothing.” He grinned, and wiggled his eyebrows at Lafayette.

“Oh no.” Lafayette groaned, and Hercules shook his head.

“Let’s go, I gotta get to him before Angelica takes a bite of him!” John smirked, and yanked open the classroom doors, leaving his roommates behind.

“What time is it? Showtime!” He gleefully announced, taking advantage of his socked feet to slide into the classroom, skidding to a halt in front of Burr and his companion. He noticed Aaron roll his eyes and lean over to whisper something in the new guy’s ear, but the new guy was watching John intently. John grinned and winked at him, sliding over.

“Yo I'm John Laurens in the place to be!” He introduced himself cheekily, and shot finger guns at the new guy. Aaron sighed deeply and nodded at John. John responded with his usual greeting.

“Well, if it ain't the protege of Princeton College!” He exclaimed, grinning and sweeping into an exaggerated bow.

“Laurens,” Burr got out through gritted teeth, “I swear if you greet me with that one more time I will-”

“No, you love it, I can tell.” John cut in, standing upright again and cracking his back. “Say, do either of you happen to have an extra pair of socks and shoes?”

“Why on Earth would you need-” Burr trailed off and he glanced down at Lauren’s feet. “You're kidding.”

“I 'assure you, he is not.” Lafayette’s voice came from behind them, and John turned to see him walk up, and clap a hand on John’s shoulder. “This- ‘ow you say? Oh yes, _moron_ ran out of ‘our apartment in nothing but ‘is socked feet.”

“For the love of God, why- No, I'm not even asking.” Burr grumbled, and Lafayette moved his attention to the newcomer.

“Oui oui, mon ami, je m’appelle Lafayette.” He introduced himself, then blinked and shook his head. “I apologize, I am from-”

“France. Je m’appelle Alexander Hamilton.” The newcomer said, and John raised his eyebrows. Laf had been working with him on his French since they met so he could get by reasonably well in French, but this guy sounded fluent.

“You understand my language? You are wonderful!” Lafayette exclaimed, and leaned over the desk Alexander was sitting at to kiss his cheeks, and John grinned at Alexander’s shocked expression.

“The new dude getting the typical French greeting?” Hercules asked, and John nodded.

“When was the last time he was that excited about either of us speaking French?” He mused aloud, and Lafayette drew back, glaring at his two friends.

“Maybe I would be more enthusiastic if you stopped saying nothing but obscenities in French and then saying- what is it? Oh yes- 'Pardon my French.'” He sighed, and Alexander bit back a laugh.

“Hello brah, I am Hercules Mulligan.” Hercules introduced himself, and Alexander smiled, and John could have melted. He had to lay dibs on this guy before the rest of the team came.

“A pleasure, I’m sure. My name is Alexander Hamilton.” Alexander said, and John grinned.

“Nice to meet you Alexander. So what brings you to this ragtag army?” He asked, and Alexander raised his eyebrows.

“I wasn't aware I was enlisting, but I'm game. Burr's my roomate and I just followed him here because none of my professors will let me see their coursework in advance. I'm double majoring in Pol-sci and pre law.” He rambled, and John's ewebrows shot up.

"You're double majoring? Do you have a death wish or something?" He asked, and Alexander grinned.

"You're not the first person to ask me that. Now tell me about this debate team. There's only one listed on the school website, I checked, and they only accept people personally approved by King himself, how unfair is that?! King hasn't responded to one of my emails, all I've gotten is a message from his secretary that basically said fuck off, which is completely ridiculous-"

"Yeah, that's King for you. That reminds me-" Herc started, but he was cut off by Angelica dashing into the room, and John jumped to his feet.

“Is he coming?” He asked excitedly, and she nodded, grinning.

“Ok everyone, positions!” She yelled. John grinned and ran over to the windows to close the blinds, cursing under his breath as he slipped every other step.

“Are Eliza and Peggy here?” John yelled over his shoulder to Angelica, who glanced back from where she was helping Lafayette and Hercules drag desks to form an aisle down the middle of the classroom.

“Yeah, they're escorting him in.” She smirked, and looked over at Alexander, who was looking a little bit lost. “Hey newbie. Stop standing there catchin’ flies. Go stand in the closet and wait till someone gets ya.”

“Wait, what? I am not standing in a closet! Why do you even want to put me in a closet in the first place?!” He snapped, but Burr got a hold of his collar and started dragging him towards the corner of the room. “Get your hands off me! I will not be shoved into a closet! I'm being hazed! Help!”

“Shut it Alex.” Mulligan laughed from where he and Angelica stood on desks, now arranged correctly, creating a pathway from the doors to the huge oak desk at the front of the room.

“HERE COMES THE GENERAL!” Came a shriek from the door, and they flew open, revealing Eliza and Peggy heralding a resigned Washington.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Burr yelled, shouting from the corner where he gave Alexander a final shove and slammed the closet door behind him.

“HERE COMES THE GENERAL!” John added his voice to the chorus of students, jumping onto a desk besides Lafayette.

“The moment you've been waiting for!” Burr announced, walking towards Washington.

“HERE COMES THE GENERAL!” The students cheered again, and now everyone but Burr was standing on a desk lining either side of the aisle. Washington was holding his head in his hands, still standing at the entrance to the classroom.

“THE PRIDE OF MOUNT VERNON!” Burr shouted, grabbing Washington’s arm and escorting him down the aisle lined with students.

“HERE COMES THE GENERAL!”

“ _GEORGE WASHINGTON!_ ” Burr finished, jumping onto Washington’s own desk and displaying Washington, who look very much like he would like to strangle every last one of them.

“How long are you guys going to keep this up?” Washington sighed, looking up at his students still standing on the desks staring at him.

“As long as you're our leader in the war against the King’s Men.” Herc grinned, and John hopped down from his desk and hit the floor, his feet promptly sliding out from under him, causing him to crash to the ground. Again. “ _Fucking_ _Hell!_ ”

“Someone please help John get his life together.” Angelica muttered, and John rolled over onto his back.

“I heard that.” He stumbled to his feet, grabbing a desk to pull himself up.

“Son, why don't you have shoes on?” Washington asked, and John held up a hand.

“I don't want to talk about it. How ‘bout we start the meeting, yes? We've got a newbie.” He directed the conversation away from himself, and Washington nodded apprehensively.

“Please tell me you didn't lock him in the closet.” He pleaded, and John just grinned at him, causing Washington to groan. “You locked him in the closet. Eliza, please unlock the door and get him out.”

Eliza smiled and slid of the desk, her long dark hair flowing behind her. “Of course.” The closet door was shaking with what John assumed was Alexander beating on it. Now that John was paying attention and not shouting, he could hear Alexander pounding on the door and yelling threats, which made him laugh. Those were some very creative insults.

John had started the tradition of sticking a newbie in the closet till Washington noticed because of a moron called Charles Lee, a person whom John would very much like to punch in the face. He wouldn't shut up about how the team should be run, and how everything was so terribly disorganized, and basically bashing everything he could think of. Eventually, John got sick of it and grabbed Lee by the collar and threw him into a closet, locking it behind him. It had taken Washington nearly an hour to notice Lee’s absence, which was still a record.

“ ** _Thank_ ** you! At last someone rescues me!” Alexander’s voice sounded clearer now, and John looked towards him. He was dramatically thanking Eliza, who laughed and took his arm to escort him to Washington.

“I'm not sorry!” John yelled, causing Eliza to roll her eyes.

“I really am sorry Alexander, but every newbie has to sit in the closet until Washington notices. You're lucky John mentioned you, otherwise you would have been in there as long as Charles had.” She said, and John nearly groaned aloud at the repeated mention of freaking Lee.

“Yeah well Lee is a-” He began, but Washington cut him off.

“John, please.” He put a hand on John’s shoulder. “He is a valuable member of the Revolution.”

“Whatever.” John muttered, and shook Washington’s hand off. He would punch friggin Lee in the face eventually. Fucking Lee.

“My name is Elizabeth Schuyler, but my friends call me Eliza.” John tuned back into their conversation, and watched Alexander kiss Eliza’s hand, making her turn red and giggle.

“Alexander Hamilton. If it takes getting locked in a closet for us to meet, it will have been worth it.” He flirted, and John stifled a laugh. This guy was _smooth_.

Washington sighed, and turned to Alexander and Eliza. “I'm sorry you were locked in a closet, that really wasn't an impressive first introduction to our team. I’m George Washington, administrative head of this debate team.

“My name is Alexander Hamilton. And I think I can overlook the closet incident if someone buys me coffee.” Alexander replied cheekily. John wiggled his eyebrows at Eliza, who turned red and in return glared at him.

“So what exactly do we do here?” Alexander asked, and Washington smiled and clapped his hands together.

“Let's get started so you can find out on your own. Seats!” He ordered, and everyone scrambled to find an empty desk. John found himself sitting between Lafayette and Alexander, and he grinned, instinctively scooting his table closer to Lafayette’s before remembering Alexander’s smile and reconsidering.

“Ok, before we begin our meeting, we have to talk about the incidents involving the King’s Men.” Washington stated, and John groaned inwardly.

“Sir, if this is about the tea incident there is absolutely no evidence tying any of us,” Mulligan started, and Angelica finished his statement.

“We destroyed all said evidence.” She smirked, and she and Hercules fist bumped.

“I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, because I am still a member of the school board and am obliged to report all rule breaking.” Washington said pointedly, but John caught a glimpse of a small smile when Washington looked down and shuffled his papers.

“Getting back to my original print, I am referring to the violence that has erupted between our two debate teams,” Washington said, and John grinned, until what Washington said sunk in. _Shit._ He glanced over at Lafayette who was nervously tapping his fingers on his desk.

“I'm sure all of you have heard about the various scuffles that have happened over the past month. Look, we can't have this type of thing happen if we want to succeed. We can't give King any ammunition against us, and he can and will twist reality until he is in the right and we are in the wrong. We have to be smart.” Washington ordered, and John caught a glimpse of Burr nodding his approval.

“John, I am directing this towards you.” Washington added, and John’s mouth dropped open in outrage.

“Are you kidding me?!”

Washington sent him a look. “Son, you've been involved four out of the five fights that have been reported, and I think we all know that there have been many more unreported incidents. You need to keep your head down, the last thing we need is one of our top debaters expelled.” Washington informed him, and John’s stomach lurched at the thought of being expelled.

“Fine.” He muttered, and chewed on his bottom lip. Fine. He'd just have to stay off the radar for a little bit.

“Thank you. And that goes to the rest of you too.” Washington continued, his gaze leveling on Lafayette, Hercules, and Angelica, who shifted uncomfortably.

“Moving on from that. As you all know, Yorktown is coming up in five months, which may seem like a lot of time but believe me, it will be upon us before we know it. So far, Thomas is our top debater, followed in order by Aaron, then Lafayette. Remember, these standings are not final. They could change at any time, and any newcomers,” he gestured to Alexander, who sat forward eagerly, “may certainly rise up and become our top debater.”

“I am not throwing away my shot.” Alexander said confidently, and John raised his eyebrows.

That was hot.

“I'm sure son.” Washington chuckled, and stood up and walked down the aisle. “Today we’ll work on quick debates. Seeing as Thomas won't get back until second trimester ends, James will be paired with Charles Lee until Thomas returns. Alexander, you'll be paired with Aaron, if that's alright with both of you?”

Alexander and Burr both shifted uncomfortably, but neither of them protested, so Washington took that as assent.

“Good. Now let the debates begin!”


	2. Two

**Chapter II**

 

_“In New York you can be a new man…”_

-

“And _that_ , ladies and gentlemen, is why scholarships should be offered more readily and not withheld to any student no matter what the circumstance. “ Hamilton finished, and John swore he heard a pin drop.

“...Wow.” He commented, sliding his feet off the desk. John didn’t think he had ever heard someone debate like that. Alexander hadn’t even let Burr talk once, and every time Henry or Madison tried a rebuttal he cut them off in ten seconds flat and started on another affirmative.

“That was very impressive.” Washington spoke, and Alexander turned towards the professor.

“Please, that was a warm up. I could do better, especially if there wasn't a time limit, is there something I can do about that?” Alexander asked, and John exchanged impressed glances with Angelica. If Hamilton could keep this up, he was going to be at least in the top three on their team. John just couldn’t wait until Jefferson got back and Alexander could go up against him. While John didn't exactly _hate_ Thomas per say, it would be amazing to see Jefferson get his smug ass handed to him on a platter by Alexander.

“I am not the person you would talk to about changing the rules, but we can discuss that later. I’m sure we all look forward to working with you.” Washington announced, and John grinned at Alexander, catching his attention.

“Yeah. Those redcoats aren’t gonna know what hit ‘em.” He declared, and Peggy spoke up.

“I know, right! Alex, you spoke for twenty freakin minutes without letting anyone get a word in. That’s _awesome_.” She grinned, and nudged Eliza, who was sitting besides her.

“So did I win the debate?” Alexander asked, smirking.

“What the hell do you think?” Angelica rolled her eyes, and Alexander initiated a ridiculous happy dance that made John fall in love just a little bit more.

“You think he’s straight?” He whispered to Lafayette, who looked up from his phone to observe Alexander, who was grinding in celebration. Patrick Henry looked ready to set Alexander on fire, and Burr was watching with raised eyebrows and an exasperated expression.

“What in hell is he doing?” Lafayette asked, scrunching his eyebrows.

“Who cares, it’s adorable. So straight or no?” John repeated, and Lafayette tilted his head in consideration.

“I don’t know _mon ami._ But judging by some of those motions he’s making…” He trailed off and wiggled his eyebrows, and John grinned.

“ _Yes_. I am so getting a date!” He celebrated, and Lafayette laughed and shook his head.

“It is about time. I remember you spent weeks moping over that man you met just one time but you became convinced you were meant to be.” He laughed softly, and John rolled his eyes.

“Yes, but you cannot deny that he was _hot_.” He grumbled, and caught a glimpse of Lafayette’s phone screen and grinned.

“Miss Adriene have anything interesting to say?” He whispered, nudging Laf’s shoulder

“Leave me alone.” Lafayette grumbled good-naturedly, locking his phone screen and shoving it in his pocket. “She wishes for me to tell you that she is in love with the drawing you sent to her.”

“Aww, tell her I send my love and intend to fight you for her affections.” John smirked, and Laf sighed.

“John, your description on Tumblr includes the phrase ‘raging homosexual.’ Forgive me if I do not believe you in your intentions.”

“Touchè. But do tell her I said hi.” John replied, and glanced up to find Alexander had concluded his celebration and was now filling out paperwork with Angelica and Washington at the teacher’s desk, and the rest of the room was engaged in a different type of debate.

“Look, there is no way in Hell that Moriarty is still alive. You saw _The Final Problem_ , Moriarty is _dead_.” Peggy was saying, and Eliza stubbornly shook her head.

“You all are underestimating one of the greatest villains of all time.” Eliza stated, sitting back and crossing her arms. “Moriarty knows how Sherlock works. He knows what makes him tick. He is playing him, and I'm telling you he's going to return eventually.” Eliza declared stubbornly.

“Sweet Eliza sticking up for the serial killer. Is there anything we need to know Eliza?” John teased, and Eliza smiled sweetly.

“I don’t know John. Do you really want that answered?” She retorted, and John shook his head.

“No ma'am, I already have a healthy fear of the Schuyler Sisters.” He said, half laughing and half dead serious.

“Work!” Peggy quipped, and high-fived Eliza.

“Although if you wanted my opinion, I agree with ‘Liza.” John spoke, and besides him Lafayette shook his head.

“You are both floundering in desperate hope and outrageous fan theories.” Lafayette announced disdainfully, scooting his desk away from John. “Eventually you will see sense.”

“Oh hush Laf.” Eliza laughed, and Washington interrupted any further debate.

“While I’m sure arguing over fictional characters would greatly improve your debating skills, I’m afraid I must interrupt to insist on actual practice.” He stated, and Peggy rolled her eyes.

“But sir, these two are so wrapped up in their little dream world they are blind to reality! It is our duty to bring them to the truth!” She protested, and Washington shook his head with a small smile.

“John and Angelica, you’re going to go up against Eliza and Peggy for this next debate, and please, this time do refrain from your voices rising to a pitch that only dogs are accustomed to hearing.” He requested, and John laughed and glanced at Peggy, whose mocha cheeks were tinted red.

“Ready Angelica?” He asked his debate partner, and Angelica nodded, confidently smiling and walking towards the center of the room. John had known Angelica even before he arrived in New York. Actually, Angelica probably knew him better than anyone else in the world, which got annoying when she called his bullshit two seconds flat.

“Of course. Shall we begin?” She replied, and John slid out of his desk and padded over to the centre of the room to join her, facing Eliza and Peggy.

The debate was nothing unusual, the topic being relaxing immigration laws. John and Angelica were given the affirmative, while Eliza and Peggy worked on rebutting them. John in particular was really invested in this topic, he didn't even have to come up with arguments on the fly.

“Good job everyone, this debate goes to Angelica and John.” Washington announced at the conclusion of the debate, and John and Angelica fist bumped.

“That's all the time we have today, all of you get out so I can get ready for my next lecture. And I believe you all have a paper to write” Washington stated, making everyone groan. John turned to Angelica, who was still standing besides him.

“You working tomorrow??” He asked, and Angelica nodded.

“Noon to six. You?”

“I'm picking up right after you, working till nine. The next day.” John groaned.

“Jesus Christ John, what do you have against sleep? And is that even legal?” Angelica exclaimed, raising her eyebrows.

“Sleep is for the weak.” John replied, raising his arms over his head and stretching his shoulders. “Unfortunately I am very weak, and will soon be very miserable. And James Madison was supposed to work the shift after me but he has a doctor’s appointment so I offered to cover it for him.”

“Oh. I suppose that’s alright then.” Angelica decided, walking over to her sisters. “See you tomorrow then. Don’t be late for your shift, I've got a date at six thirty and if you make me late the next thing I'll be late to is your funeral.” She threatened, joining her sisters as they walked out the door.

“Love you too!” John called, rolling his eyes and turning to head over to Laf and Herc, who were talking to Burr and Alexander.

“Yo Hamilton! Friday nights us four and the Schuyler sisters meet at the coffee shop on thirteenth, you want to join?” John grinned, ignoring Burr’s sigh from besides him.

“My professors refused to give me course work to do in advance, so I guess I don’t have any plans. I’ll be there.” Hamilton replied, and John smiled.

That could totally be a date.

“ _Merveilleux!_ I look forward to getting to know you better!” Lafayette exclaimed, and Alexander grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He opened his mouth to reply, but Aaron beat him to it.

“Alexander, we should get back to the dorm if you wanted me to catch you up on what you've missed so far in your classes.” Aaron interrupted, and glancing at the clock on the wall, which read six o’clock.

“Oh, yeah, forgot about that. I'll see you all Friday then!” Alexander replied, and John grinned and winked, and Alexander may or may not have turned red, it was hard to tell with the lighting.

“ _Adiòs mis amigos_ , see y’all Friday!” John called over his shoulder, following Herc and Lafayette and catching the door as it was swinging closed. John couldn’t resist one last glance over his shoulder at Alexander. Burr was leading him out the side door, but Alex was looking over his shoulder with a grin and wide eyes, looking around him like he couldn’t believe that the classroom was real. John froze for a minute and blinked, feeling like he was intruding on something personal.

The moment was shattered by Lafayette loudly calling for him down the hallway, and John slammed the door shut, not wanting to be caught spying. He slid down the hallway in his now thankfully dry socks, and caught up to Lafayette and Herc, who were standing at the end of the hallway waiting for him.

“Done ogling Hamilton?” Hercules asked, shaking his head.

“Never. He’s fantastic.” John grinned, and squeezed between his roommates. “So gentlemen, what'll it be tonight? I’m pretty sure we still have leftover Chinese in the ‘fridge.”

“Actually, I would like to create dinner tonight.” Lafayette announced as they walked down the hallway towards the lobby. “I found a recipe online, I would like to attempt to replicate it.”

“Not without supervision you're not.” Hercules replied immediately, and John shuddered as he remembered what happened the last time Lafayette had tried to make dinner on his own.

“You need to let that go, how was I to know not all fires can be put out by water?” Lafayette replied indignantly, and John groaned. That entire evening had been a disaster.

“Fine. But there better not be any more scorch marks in the kitchen by the time you're finished.” John threatened, and Lafayette threw his head back and laughed.

“I assure you, it will be perfect.” Lafayette promised, and John shrugged at Hercules, who still looked apprehensive.

“Hey, it’s snowing!” John announced gleefully, catching sight of the outside through the ginormous windows. He slid over to the doors and burst out into the freezing cold air, laughing excitedly. John squinted up into the sky, watching the white flakes drift down. He never got tired of snow. It barely snowed in South Carolina, he could literally count on one hand the number of times he remembered it snowing.

“Ugh.” Lafayette muttered, and John glanced back at him. “Will it never again be warm?”

“Suck it up baguette.” Hercules rolled his eyes, and Lafayette glared at him.

“Well _excusez-moi_ for not enjoying these unnatural temperatures.” Lafayette retorted, pulling his scarf up so it covered his nose and left only his eyes exposed. “John, you still have nothing but your socks on.”

“I'll be fine. I survived the trip here and managed not to get frostbite.” John sighed, and the lampposts flickered on, illuminating the darkening streets. “Come on, let’s get home before it gets completely dark out.”

 

\---

 

When they finally got back to their apartment, John was ready for a hot shower and Animal Planet documentaries, but seeing as the universe hated him, the evening went anything but smoothly.

“John! **_John!_ ** ” Lafayette yelled from the kitchen, and John groaned from where he laid on the couch, dropping his textbook onto his face.

“What?!” He yelled back, his voice slightly muffled by the textbook.

“Come chop the onions! They always make me cry!” Lad replied, and John groaned again and rolled off the couch, landing on the carpet with a thud.

“Just chew gum or something!” He called, nonetheless walking into the kitchen.

“That doesn't work. Besides, you can cut things much faster than I.” Lafayette said from the stove, where he was stirring something. “The onions are on the counter, I need-” he cut off to check the paper he had sitting besides him, “two cups? How much is that in normal measurements? God, you Americans have the strangest units of measurement.”

“You don't have to tell me, I hate them as much as you do.” John grumbled, making his way over to the counter besides Lafayette. “Watcha making?”

“Beef stew, I overheard Professor Washington say that Martha’s beef stew was one of his favourite meals, so I must try it.” Lafayette replied, and John rolled his eyes and grabbed a knife sitting besides him, and caught the onion Laf threw at him.

“Dude, your obsession with Washington is out of control.” John commented, deftly cutting the onion as he talked.

“ _Non_ , I am just admiring one of the epitomes of the ideal American. Washington is-”

“I’m going to cut you off there before you dig yourself deeper into a hole. Mark my words, you are going to end up naming your firstborn child after him.” John interrupted, finishing the first onion and reaching behind Lafayette to grab another.

“Maybe I will.” Lafayette sniffed, pausing his stirring for a moment to watch John dice the onions. “I will never understand how you can chop those so quickly.”

“Lots of practice.” John said curtly, pushing away half faded memories of a smiling face and laughter in the kitchen.

“You must teach me sometime.” Lafayette replied, and John grinned, relaxing into easy banter. He stuck around in the kitchen even after he finished with the onions, just to make sure Laf didn’t burn down the kitchen. When the stew was finished, Laf yelled for Hercules to join them, and, now that John thought about it, this was first time in weeks the three of them were all home for an actual dinner.

“Before I come in, there better not be anything on fire.” Herc’s voice came from his room, and John grinned from his position, sitting on the counter by the stove.

“I stayed as adult supervision, it's all good.” He called back, and Lafayette swatted him with a spatula.

“I am older than you, you are not qualified to say that!” He complained, and John rolled his eyes.

“Older is not synonymous with better!” He retorted, and Lafayette grinned smugly.

“Yes, but as of the moment I am twenty one, and you are barely nineteen. _Petite tortue._ You cannot even drink!” Lafayette taunted, and John grinned victoriously.

“Dude, I grew up in South Carolina! Rednecks! I had my first beer when I was ten!”

“You are also tiny, I am at least six inches taller than you!” Lafayette crowed, but before John could argue further he and Lafayette were simultaneously swatted on the back of the head.

“You're both infants.” Hercules informed them, and leaned over the stove and looked into the simmering pot.

“I’m impressed.” He said, and Lafayette straightened up with a proud smile.

“Do you think Professor Washington would like it? Perhaps I could bring him some-”

“Dude! That's so weird, you don't just bring in professors last night’s leftovers!” John piped up again, hopping off the counter.

“Yes, but it is George!” Lafayette argued, and Herc rolled his eyes.

“Doesn't make it any less obsessive and stalkerish.” He replied, and grabbed two bowls from besides the sink.

“Meh meh meh.” Was Lafayette’s only reply, and John cracked a grin.

“So eloquent.” He teased from the refrigerator, grabbing a carton of eggs and peppers.

“I do not know why I put up with you ruffians.” Lafayette complained, spooning some stew into his bowl, and then Hercules’.

“You're the one who forced us to move in, so shut up and eat your stew.” Hercules shot back, and John laughed and hip-checked Lafayette from in front of the stove.

“Move it, I'm about to show you what true culinary mastery looks like.” He smirked, and Laf groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Stop being such a- Hercules, what is the phrase? Oh yes, a fucking hipster.” He groaned, and John rolled his eyes.

“I am not a hipster, I'm a vegetarian. There is a difference, however small.” John replied, grabbing a pan from the sink and moving the pot of stew to the counter besides him.

“You're walking the line Laurens.” Herc muttered, and John rolled his eyes, cracking two eggs and grabbing a knife to chop the peppers.

“Did either of you start that paper due Friday for Washington?” Hercules changed the subject, setting his bowl in the sink.

“ _Oui_ , I had it done last night.” Lafayette replied immediately, and John groaned.

“Laf, you need help. He assigned it Monday, today is Tuesday. How the hell do you have eight pages written?! I didn't start, that's more of a Thursday night at midnight problem for me.” He asked incredulously, flipping the omelette.

“Don't you have a lab report due Friday too?” Hercules asked, and John pressed his lips together and turned to face Hercules.

“That I do. That is a Thursday night at three problem.”

“John, please, for your health and sanity, as well as ours because I remember the volume of the music you play when you are stressed, at least start one of those today.” Lafayette pleaded, and John sighed.

“Sorry, no can do. I've got a organic chem test tomorrow, and you're one to talk Laf, need I bring up the time you didn't sleep for three days?”

“You both need a sense of self preservation.” Hercules grumbled, and Laurens smiled.

“But where's the fun in that? Besides, I know how to take care of myself better than you do, I've literally got textbooks on the subject.” He said, sliding the omelette onto a plate and grabbing a fork.

“That does not count if you ignore everything the textbooks tell you!” Laf protested, and Herc nodded in agreement.

“I don’t ignore _everything…_ ” John mumbled, faced with the harsh reality that his friends were in fact right.

“Most things though.” Herc pressed, and John groaned and put his now empty plate in the sink.

“Whatever. I'm off to study, see y’all tomorrow.” He said, walking out of the kitchen and snagging his textbook from the couch.

“If you fall and break your neck I will not cover any of your funeral expenses and you'll be buried back in South Carolina next to a bunch of rich old white guys!” Hercules threatened, and John rolled his eyes and ignored him, dropping to the floor and sticking his arm under the couch to search for a flashlight. He pulled one out and smiled as he heard raised voices from the kitchen, catching bits and pieces of their conversation, something involving dragons and the Eiffel Tower? He didn't want to know.

John darted into his and Laf’s shared room, shoving his feet into his beat up sneakers and slipping on the jacket hanging from his bunk. He grabbed his iPad and backpack, and shoved his textbook, flashlight, and iPad into backpack and zipped it closed, slinging it on his back. At the last minute he remembered his fingerless gloves, which had been a gift from Herc, who had had enough of John coming back in with blue fingers.

“Christ, this is gonna suck.” John muttered to himself, but made his way over to the window anyway, undoing the latch and lifting up the window, cold air flooding into the room. He clambered out onto the fire escape and closed the window behind him, making sure the latch didn't catch and lock him out.

John turned and took a minute to survey the city of New York four stories beneath him, lit up by streetlights and flashing billboards. There were still people out and about, scurrying on the sidewalks and there were taxis blaring their horns. The city that never sleeps indeed.

John started climbing up the fire escape barely feeling the cold, taking three steps at a time and expertly hopping over the gap where two steps were missing. In no time John was at the top of the fire escape, now more than twenty stories above the streets of New York. He glanced up at the roof, just about eight feet above his head.

This was the tricky bit.

John tightened the straps of his backpack and flexed his fingers, rubbing them together and blowing on them until they regained full feeling. John then put one foot on the black railing of the fire escape, checking for ice, and upon finding none, stepped up and stood on the railing, brushing his fingers against the brick besides him to steady him. He swayed in the wind for a few seconds, reveling in the moment, and eyed his next target, a decorative window awning. He couldn't see any ice from here, which was a good sign, so he leaped from his precarious perch on the railing and grabbed the edge of the window awning, his feet slamming into the screen on the window as they scrabbled for purchase. John gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the carved concrete until his feet found the windowsill, and he exhaled, well aware of the fact that he was twenty stories above the ground.

He inched over to the other edge of the window until he reached the end, and he transferred his right hand to the brick wall, which had a gouge in it perfect for a handhold. He moved his foot right below it, and found the foothold he had hacked out when he first moved in. From there it was easy to find the other two cracks in the building and slide his hand and foot into them, until he was hanging on the building wall like an oversized spider. He glanced up, the roof was only about two feet above his head, easily reached by reaching up a hand and grabbing the edge of the roof, pulling himself up and rolling to safety.

John grinned and stood up, brushing the gravel off his jeans and walking over towards the small chimney in the center of the roof. The wind bit at his cheeks, making his eyes water, but he smiled again, loving the feeling the cold New York wind brought.

He was almost never cold in South Carolina.

John shouldered off his backpack and dropped it next to the four-foot chimney, which had smoke drifting out the top only to be stolen by the wind. John sat down and leaned his back against the warm brick, which brought a respite from the wind. He unzipped his backpack and pulled out his flashlight and settled it in a nook in the chimney, flicking it on and creating a small spotlight. He pulled his textbook and iPad out and placed the former on his lap, setting the iPad on top the chimney so he wouldn't accidentally step on it.

John cracked open his textbook, flipping through the pages until he found the chapter the class was on and started studying, the cold fading away until he couldn't feel it at all.

John lost track of time, immersed in terms like alkanes, cycloalkanes, and functional groups, memorizing formulas and diagrams until he reached the end of the chapter. He felt pretty comfortable with this material, so he wasn't too worried about the test. He snapped the textbook shut, shoved it back into his backpack, and clicked the flashlight off, grabbing his iPad from on top the chimney.

He smiled at the picture that flashed on when he hit the home button. It had been taken right after Laf forced Hercules and him to move in with him, and decided to throw a party.  He invited the Schuyler sisters, Jefferson and Madison (They were a package, no one really questioned it), and a few others that John never bothered to learn the names of. The picture had to have been taken by one of the unnamed invites, because all of the original members of the revolution were in the picture, laughing and goofing off.

He quickly unlocked his iPad and pulled up messages.

**To: Second-In-Command**

You up?

John checked the time, it was only ten, she should be up.

**From: Second-In-Command**

Dude I'm not eight, of course I'm up.

**To: Second-In-Command**

You'll always be eight to me shrimp. How'd Jemmy’s presentation go?

**From: Second-In-Command**

Pretty well I think, he didn't come home in tears like last time. He's getting insanely excited about his birthday, apparently turning double digits is the best thing that could possibly happen to him.

**To: Second-In-Command**

Wait till Henry turns 13, those teenaged years tho

**From: Second-In-Command**

I'm still a teenager, and you're barely nineteen. Try again when you can drink

**To: Second-In-Command**

Martha, Peter gave us our first beer when we were ten. Why does everyone keep bringing up the fact that legally I can't drink?!

**From: Second-In-Command**

Because you look like you're twelve.

**To: Second-In-Command**

I do not!

**From: Second-In-Command**

Dude, have you looked in the mirror? The freckles make you look like you're fresh out of middle school

**To: Second-In-Command**

You have just as many freckles as I do.

**From: Second-In-Command**

Yes, but I make them work. You, on the other hand, look like Mary E, especially with the hair.

**To: Second-In-Command**

I have it on good authority that my freckles increase my stunning good looks by at least 13%.

**From: Second-In-Command**

Shit, I gotta go, dad’s coming. I'll text at lunch tomorrow, we need to talk about Jemmy’s birthday, the only thing he asked me for was for you to come home.

**To: Second-In-Command**

Shit

John exhaled painfully, and ran his hands through his hair. He was missing _so much_ , just because of fucking Henry Laurens.

Jemmy was about to turn ten. John couldn't be there, so he'd have to figure something out. If he worked two double shifts at the Revolution, and then overtime at the Marina, maybe he'd have enough extra cash to get him a present and mail it in time for his birthday. Jemmy was into soccer, at least he was the last time John saw him, God that was almost three years ago. He'd have ask Martha.

John dropped his head into his hands and took another deep breath, trying to get his mind under control. He knew what would happen if he continued down this path, nothing good would come of it. Focus on something else, something else, _alkanes are saturated hydrocarbons, they included methane, ethane, propane-_

_If only if only if only_

John’s thoughts spiraled into a whirlwind, _if onlys_ scattering all rational thought and dragging him down. John’s fingers dug into his scalp until it was painful, but he didn't unclench his hands.

John squeezed his eyes shut and abruptly bolted to his feet, his iPad dropping to the roof.

He was fine. Martha gave him regular updates on all the kids, they all remembered him, they knew he cared for them. His father could go fuck himself and burn in Hell. He had a new life in New York, one he had carved out for himself, and he was happier here than he had ever been with his father in South Carolina. Maybe if mom hadn't died things would be better, but moping over it wasn't going to change that. Life fucking sucked, move on.

His iPad screen lit up, and John picked it up, grateful that the screen was still intact.

**From: HE NEEDS NO INTRODUCTION**

Laurens, it's almost eleven, get your ass inside and study in here before you freeze to death, and your demon turtle needs to be fed.

It had only been ten when he talked to Martha… John checked the the time, it was ten fifty. God, he hated when he had these episodes.

**To: HE NEEDS NO INTRODUCTION**

Calm down, I'll be in in a minute. And Peaches is not a demon, she's a perfectly sweet little turtle.

**From: HE NEEDS NO INTRODUCTION**

The turtle is a fucking demon, I still have a scar on my hand it's unnatural jaws of steel.

John laughed and grabbed his backpack and stuffed his iPad in and slung it over his shoulder. He walked over to the edge of the roof and peered over, making sure he was in the right spot, and jumped down onto the fire escape, his feet making a loud _clang_ on the metal.

As he hurried down the steps he glanced up, eyes finding the barely-visible stars in the New York sky, and half smiled, his breath forming clouds in the frozen air.

“Miss you mom.”


	3. Three

**Chapter III**

  
“ _A-L-E-X-A-N-D--E-R, we are, meant to be!”_

\---

“Angelica you’re free, go woo your man.” John called, the door to the coffee shop swinging shut behind him.

“Finally!” Angelica yelled, tossing her apron aside and walking out from behind the counter. “Have fun with your graveyard shift freckles!” She called from over her shoulder, and John groaned and rolled his eyes, slipping behind the counter and grabbing an apron.

He tightened his ponytail as he pulled the apron over his head, blowing some stray curls out of his face. Tying his apron, he glanced over at the lounge area, only finding a few college students huddled over a laptop on a table in the corner, most likely working on a group project due the next day.

Well, this was going to be a long fifteen hours.

John took a seat on the stool behinds the counter and pulled out his iPad. He idly scrolled through his online textbook, he was supposed to have the chapter read by Friday, but as much as he loved Washington, he couldn't bring himself to care about a bunch of dusty old white guys getting into duels over the stupidest things.

He glanced up as the bell hanging over the door rang, and grinned when he saw a certain debate team genius walk in the door.

“Yo Hamilton!” He called, shutting down his iPad and tossing it to the side. Alex’s eyes widened, and he walked over to the counter. He was clad in an oversized sweatshirt and jeans, his hair pulled up in a messy bun. He looked exhausted, but there was still that manic glint in his eyes that had first caught John’s fancy.

“John Laurens, right?” He asked, and John grinned and winked.

“The one and only. What can I getcha?” He asked, hopping off his stool to grab a metal cup.

“Triple red eye, or the equivalent.” Alex replied, and John whistled.

“Damn, how many pages do you have to write?” He asked, grabbing the espresso mix.

“Well technically only eight, but how the hell am I supposed to make a point in eight pages?! I need at least two for the thesis alone-” Alex started ranting, and John raised his eyebrows.

“I'm going to cut you off right there, psychiatric ward is down the street and to the left.” He pointed out the door, and Alex looked alarmed. “Kidding. Eight pages, is that for Washington’s class?” He asked over his shoulder as he continued making the caffeinated nightmare.

“Yeah, how'd you guess?” Alex asked, leaning on the counter.

“I’m in it too, although I haven't even started the paper yet, hell, I haven't finished reading the chapter.” John admitted, raising his voice so he could be heard over the whirring of the machinery.

“Seriously?” Alex shouted to be heard over the loud grinding, and John looked back over his shoulder at Alex.

“Look, I took the class because of Washington and because I need elective credits, I can't bring myself to get invested in a bunch of corpses.” He admitted, and switched the machine off and deftly poured the contents into a plastic cup. “Whipped cream or no?”

“Hell no, don't screw up my coffee with that sugary shit.” Alex threatened, and John scoffed incredulously.

“The fuck Hamilton, I can't even drink coffee without at least six spoonfuls of sugar!” He protested, sliding the coffee towards Alex.

“Oh no, you did not just say that to my face John Laurens.” Alex shot, raising his eyebrows and taking a swig of his coffee.

“How do you not have third degree burns in your throat?” John asked, momentarily distracted by Alex’s frankly alarming coffee consumption.

“Spoken like a true amature. You're lucky you're cute, or else I'd take my patronage over to King’s Tea.” Alex said, smirking and god did that not make John want to kiss that stupid smirk off his face.

“Oh you wouldn't.” John said with only half-feigned horror, and held his hand out. “Four sixty seven, pay up. And don't forget to tip the attractive barista.” He winked, and Alex laughed and dug a five dollar bill out of his pocket.

“Only cuz you're cute.” Alex said, and John grinned.

“Hey, I've got to get through med school, I need every penny I can get.” He commented, slipping the bill in the cash register and dropping the change into the tip jar, and Alex whistled through his teeth.

“Med school? Damn Laurens, aiming to be the new Dr. Sexy?” Alex grinned, and John wiggled his eyebrows.

“Dunno, you think I could fit the label?” He smirked, inwardly flipping out. This was most definitely flirting, the guy couldn't be straight.

“Nah.” Alex said dismissively, and John blinked, taken aback, then saw the smile fighting to appear on Alex’s stern demeanor.

“Oh you ass.” He laughed, and Alex’s haughty facade broke and he and laughed with him.

“You're more cute than sexy though. Look at those freckles!” Alex reached over the counter and pinched John’s cheek, and John swatted his hand away, laughing.

“You're just as bad as Peggy, don't you have a paper to write?” John asked, rubbing his cheek (Damn those pinches hurt), and Alex pouted.

“I'm hurt, you don't want to spend time with me?” He complained, but John just raised his eyebrows pointedly at the laptop under Alex’s arm. “Fine, fine, but I'm warning you: I have questions, and by the end of your shift you are going to answer them. When is the end of your shift by the way?” He asked over his shoulder as he made his way towards one of the couches.

“Nine am. Now shut up and write your essay.” John ordered, and Alex stuck his tongue out from the couch where he settled and plugged in his laptop. John watched him for a moment (Because that wasn't stalkerish at all), and then felt his ears heat up when Alex looked up and they made eye contact. John immediately looked away and down at his iPad, sighing as he scrolled through the pages he still had to read.

Fucking history.

John rolled his eyes and pulled up docs, ready to one hundred percent bullshit his way through this essay. Eight pages, that was about three thousand words. God, this is gonna suck.

John started typing, switching between the textbook and docs, letting his mind wander as he mindlessly plagiarized the textbook and Shmoop. He'd edit it later, make it sound more professional and less like he copied the textbook word for word.

He glanced up when the bell above the door rang again and the door swung open to reveal a head of curly hair, the face tilted down so he couldn't see a face.

The figure approached the counter and sighed, and mumbled “Coffee. Please.”

John grinned and shook his head as he finally placed the figure. “I'll take that to mean Carmel Frappe and a shitload of whipped cream?” He smirked at Peggy, who blinked and finally looked up at John.

“You know me too well.” She grinned, but John froze and stared at the black eye marring Peggy’s complexion.

“I am totally not judging, but what the hell did you do to your face?” He asked, while turning to mix up her frappe.

“Friggin king’s men. I ran into two of them, they started talking shit about us, loud enough for the whole campus to hear, and I was going to ignore them, I swear, but they saw me and started talking about Eliza,” John’s fists clenched, “and I wasn't having it. I punched the one and he went down quick, but the other one was obviously looking for a fight because he managed to get this in,” she gestured to her face, “before I kicked him in the balls and stormed off.”

“Shit Peggy, as much as I'd like to yell at you for getting into a fight without backup, I'd be a total hypocrite and if they were talking ‘bout Eliza then all bets are off. Do you want some ice?” He asked while putting much more whipped cream on her drink than was allowed by company policy.

“Ice would be great. I was hoping you'd be working, I need help covering this up before I go home.” Peggy admitted, and John slid her drink over to her and waved off the money she tried to give.

“You're fine, this one’s on me.” He said, leaning over to open the ice machine.

“No, it's not. You're A: a broke ass college student and B: my brother, you're not supposed to be nice to me. I can pay for my own damn coffee.” Peggy rolled her eyes and shoved the money down the back of John’s shirt while he was bent over shoveling ice into a plastic baggy.

“Fine.” John grumbled, shaking out his shirt and bouncing until the bills slid out. He threw the bag of ice at Peggy who caught it with one hand and pressed it against her eye.

“You have the supplies?” She asked, and John nodded and rooted through his backpack.

“If Angelica or Eliza notices, I had nothing to do with this.” He warned, inwardly shuddering at what he knew the older sisters would do to him if they found out he helped hide something like this from them.

“Fine. Oh, dad wants to know if you can come over this weekend for family bonding.” Peggy rolled her eyes. “This time it's board games, which are more likely to tear the family apart to be honest.”

“Very true. Remember when we played Risk?” He grinned, pulling a small bag from his backpack and placing it on the counter.

“Angelica only won because you're all cowards too scared to cross her.” Peggy muttered, scowling.

“Hey, you had the opportunity to attack her in Australia and I didn't see you take it.” John shot back, unzipping the bag and dumping its contents onto the counter.

“It wasn't in my best interests.” Peggy sniffed, and removed the ice from her face. The swelling had reduced a bit, but the discoloration was becoming more noticeable by the minute.

“Coward.” John coughed, and Peggy swatted him upside the head. “Ok! Moving on! Dry off your face and hop up.” He instructed, and Peggy jumped onto the counter and swung her legs over so she was facing John. He sifted through the various makeup items littering the counter, stopping once he found what he was looking for. “This is your concealer, right?”

Peggy leaned down to examine the small bottle. “Yeah that's mine, see the yellow sticker on the top? It's all color coded, come on Laurens!”

“You guys have an unhealthy obsession with color coding.” John grumbled, squeezing some concealer onto the back of his palm.

“Hey, you try growing up with two sisters then tell me you don't need a way to stake your territory.” Peggy protested, and John’s hands froze for a second before he continued dabbing the makeup onto Peggy’s bruise.

“I have, actually. Twice if you want to be picky.” He said, trying to keep his tone light, but Peggy must have picked up on his falter because her hand curled around his wrist, pausing his ministrations.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up.” She said softly, and John shook his head.

“It's fine. So Angelica’s still seeing Church?” He asked, and Peggy nodded.

“Yeah. I dunno, he seems nice enough, but he's not an even match for her, you know what I mean? If she wants a partner, he needs to be able to match wits with her, challenge her, not just stare at her rack and agree with everything she says.” Peggy commented, and John wiped the extra concealer off his hand with a towel and grabbed the powder.

“Yeah. I don't know what she sees in him.” He shook his head before grabbing a brush and swirling on some powder. “Close your eyes.”

Peggy obliged and pressed her lips together. “I don't know either.”

“Open.” John stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. “Looks good, just don't hold eye contact too long and for god’s sake don't talk to Angelica.”

“Thanks Johnny boy.” Peggy smiled, hopping down from the counter and wrapping John in a hug.

“That's not my name.” John muttered into Peggy’s hair as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

“Ok, I should get home before Eliza gets worried. I'll tell dad you're in for Saturday, ok?” Peggy said, pushing back and smiling at John.

“Sure.” John replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then stepping back. “I'll see you here Friday. Now get out of my coffee shop!” He ordered, grabbing a towel and snapping it threateningly.

“Oh you're such asshole.” Peggy laughed, hopped over the counter, grabbed her frappe, and ran out the door, bells ringing wildly as she made her exit.

John shook his head, grinning to himself as he shoved all the makeup bag into the bag and put the bag back in his backpack. He glanced up, checking for any potential customers, and upon finding none, sighed in relief. He glanced over at Alexander, who was hunched over his laptop, fingers flying a mile a minute. John noted the already-empty cup besides him and winced, that couldn't be healthy.

“Hamilton! You need a refill?” He called, then frowned slightly when he received no acknowledgement.

“Ok then.” He grumbled to himself, and jumped over the counter and walked towards Alexander. “Earth to Hamilton.” He called again, sliding into the seat across from him. Still, no acknowledgement, and he raised his eyebrows.

“Alexander!” He called again, leaning over and tapping Alexander’s forehead.

“Wha- Oh! John!” Alexander yelped, apparently surprised to find the seat across from him no longer empty.

“You really get lost in your work, don't you?” John commented, and Alexander winced.

“Yeah, I do, sorry if you were trying to get my attention. Is this a good time to interrogate you?” He asked, and John could swear the bags under his eyes had gotten darker since he first walked in.

“I suppose. Give your eyes a break from the screen.” John suggested, and Alex blinked and rubbed his eyes.

“That might be a good idea. Umm, how long have I been here?” He asked, and John raised one eyebrow.

“About four hours. Are you ok?” He asked, and Alexander sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

“The phrase ‘getting lost in your work’ really does work for this situation.” He admitted, and John raised both eyebrows.

“Ok then, you definitely need a break. You said you had questions?” John asked, leaning over and closing Alexander’s laptop.

“Ah, yes. Questions. So, how exactly did the revolution start? I got the bare details from Burr, but I have a feeling there's a lot more than he says.” Alexander began, closing his laptop.

“Geez, you don't start small, do you?” John laughed, running a hand through his ponytail as he tried to figure out where to begin. “Yeah, Burr wasn't there for most the stuff before the Revolution really got rolling, so I'll just start from the beginning. Ok. So, one could argue that this whole thing started when George King took over as principal, but no one actually did anything till my sophomore year, this year, started.” He began, and Alexander leaned forward.

“Basically, King is a tyrannical bigoted dick. He gives special privileges to the rich kids, accepts bribes to pass kids, all that jazz. People have tried to catch him, but there's never any evidence. ” John paused, and Alexander nodded.

“I'm not surprised.” He rolled his eyes, grabbing for his coffee and looking disappointed to find it empty.

“Yeah. All his favourites are automatically drafted into the Redcoats, his debate team, but you knew that much, right?” John stopped again, looked up to find a Alexander staring at him a bit more intently than the situation warranted, and he could feel his ears start to heat up again.

“Yeah, Aaron told me that much. So how'd you guys start your own? Don't all clubs have to be approved by the president or some shit?” Alexander asked, and John coughed and nodded.

“Yeah, I'll get to that. Right, so I think the spark that really started this all was the Biology Massacre. Ok, massacre is a bit overdramatic but it sounds better. Anyway, for the marine biology majors there is this trip to either South Carolina or the Caribbean every spring to survey turtle nests or follow migrating patterns, marine biology stuff. Lucky bastards, I fucking love turtles.” John muttered the last part, then quickly cleared his throat and continued. “Only ten can go every year, the spots are usually given to the ten students with the highest grade in the class. But this year, King interfered and only chose his favourites, basically any of his Redcoats to go, which is so unfair I don't even know where to start.” John shook his head, and held up a hand when Alexander opened his mouth. “It's better I get it all out in one go, you can ask questions later.”

“Anyway. The other pissed off marine bio majors started a protest outside King’s office. Some Redcoats showed up, and things got violent. A lot of people got hurt, but here's the thing. The Redcoats? Got off with absolutely no punishment, but five of the other students were expelled, and six got suspended.” John ranted, and Alexander’s eyes got big and John could tell he was trying to hold back his words.

“So naturally everyone heard about it, and a lot of people got pissed, myself included. This next part not many people outside the revolution know about, so don't go running your mouth off about this, ok?” John paused, and Alexander nodded, and he continued.

“It's common knowledge that King fucking loves tea, he opened a freaking tea shop on campus for god’s sake. So one night me, Laf, Herc, Angelica, and Peggy broke into his shop and stole a shitload of tea. And when I say shitload, I mean at least three crates each. We loaded it all into Peggy’s truck and then dumped it into the lake on the west side of campus.”

“Oh my god that's awesome!” Alexander broke his vow of silence, and John grinned, reliving the moment.

“It was amazing, and incredibly satisfying. King got so unbelievably pissed, he still doesn't know who it was.” John laughed, shaking his head.

“So anyway, a few days after the tea party, King hit back. He raised the prices on fucking everything on campus. Textbooks, coffee, tuition, cafeteria food, dorm rates, even the goddamn souvenir shop stuff! Everyone was furious, I don’t live on campus so it didn't hit me as hard, but it was a problem for broke college students, you know?” John said, he and Herc had ended up cooking meals for half of John’s linear algebra class for weeks when he found out they couldn't afford the new meal cards.

“So a friend of Angelica’s, his name is Thomas Jefferson, he's a junior, you two are really alike actually now that I think about it.” John considered, tilting his head and examining Alexander. “He's in France for the semester, I think you'll either get along great or absolutely loathe each other.”

“Let's hope for the former, but I can't make any promises.” Alexander shrugged, and John laughed. “Do you get along with him?”

John considered, and chose his words carefully. “I respect him. I met him before college because he’s friends with Angelica. We’re not particularly close, but we worked together a lot to form the Revolution. He is really smart, and he is passionate about his beliefs. I don't agree with some of them, but everyone’s entitled to their own opinion, as long as it doesn’t disrespect anybody's existence. He can be really loud and obnoxious, but can’t we all?” John shrugged, and Alexander nodded.

“Anyway, he got really fucking pissed about the whole thing.” John started back into the story. “The money and everything wasn't a problem for him, he comes from a rich family, but his best friend, James Madison, he's in our year, you met him yesterday. Anyway, his family struggles financially, so the new prices were really hard on him. He has a lot of health issues too, he has to spend a lot on meds, and with the new expenses he had to go without some of them, which made feel absolutely shitty most the time.”

“That's fucking terrible!” Alexander exclaimed, and John nodded.

“Yeah. He's Herc’s cousin, so we spent a lot of time with him trying to help out. Anyway, back to the Revolution. Thomas got pissed, and he wrote an email to King titled A Declaration of Independence, and it was awesome. It basically told King to fuck off and that the students wouldn't stand for his actions anymore. He listed everything King did that was against the school code, and got about a third of campus to sign it. Then he forwarded it to Angelica, who proofread it, and told Thomas if he included how degrading King is towards women she'd make sure everyone on campus saw it. Thomas agreed, so Angelica made sure it got published in the school newspaper, and then she printed out three hundred copies and gave a stack to me, Eliza, and Peggy and we put them up all over campus.”

“I.” Alexander interrupted, and John blinked and stared at him.

“Sorry, what?”

“Eliza, Peggy and I.” Alexander repeated, and John gaped at him for a few seconds.

“Oh my god, you're one of those people!” He groaned, shaking his head and swatting Alexander, who groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“I can't help it!” Alexander protested, laughing and looking up at John, who rolled his eyes and continued.

“Fine. Eliza, Peggy, and I plastered them all over campus, and it set up a huge uproar. Redcoats were taking them down as fast as they could, but other people got their hands on them and started making copies and putting them up faster than they could be taken down. Eventually, people started calling for a rebellion, which kinda slammed the breaks on the whole thing, because we're in college for a reason and we kinda need the diploma? No one wanted to get expelled. But then Eliza had the brilliant idea of forming another debate team, and calling ourselves the Revolution. The purpose would be basically fighting the King’s men at every debate tournament they went to, that way we could attack them legally. And if anyone questioned the name, we could just say we named our team after the coffee shop a lot of us work at.” John gestured around him. “Everyone jumped on the idea, Lafayette got Washington to be our advisor, and here we are.” John finished, leaning back and sighing. “Questions?”

“You were actually really thorough.” Alexander commented, and John grinned.

“I try. The next tournament is in Brooklyn next week, you're gonna love it. There's gonna be a lot of Redcoats, it'll be good experience.” He commented, then the bells above the door rang and another half asleep college student walked in. “I should go do what I'm paid for, good luck with your paper, Alexander.” He smiled, and stood up and wavered for a minute, then grabbed a sharpie from his apron.

“This,” he said as he scribbled his number and a turtle, and after a brief hesitation, a small heart onto a napkin, “is my number. Text me!”

John spun around quickly before he could see Alexander’s reaction and hurdled the counter just in time to help the customer. As he mixed a ridiculously complicate latte, he glanced over his shoulder at Alexander, who was staring at him, napkin in hand, and John smiled at him before turning back to making the latte.

This could be fun.


	4. Four

**Chapter IV**

" _Enter me! (He says in parenthesis)”_

-

“Laurens. _Laurens!_ ” John heard a faraway voice call, but he chose to ignore it in favor of the comforting darkness enveloping him, because it was warm and-

“ _John!_ ” Came that annoying voice again, and he muttered groggily, hopefully something along the lines of fuck off and leave me alone, but then there was a sharp pain in his arm and he blinked his eyes open, taking in his surroundings.

“ _Fuck!_ ” He hissed, bolting upright and blinking furiously.

“Welcome back to the land of the living. You need to stop pulling all-nighters dude.” Herc whispered, and John shook his head.

“I'd rather keep my GPA above failing.” John groaned, craning his neck to see the front of the classroom where Washington still seemed to be lecturing. “How long was I out?”

“There's five minutes left of class, you passed out as soon as the lights turned off and the PowerPoint turned on. And dude, you are practically the fucking valedictorian, I think you can stand to get a B on a paper.” Herc hissed, and John rolled his eyes.

“I am not valedictorian, that’s some Redcoat who’s paying off King.” John argued back, rubbing his eyes to try and alleviate the soreness.

“You should be. Doesn't change the fact that you need to sleep!” Herc continued, and John sighed and changed the subject.

“Can I get the notes I missed from you?” He asked, glancing down at his notebook page, blank save the date scrawled on the top line.

“If you want, but I'd ask your boyfriend. He has literally not stopped writing since class started. I don't know how his hand isn't a mess of cramps by now.” Herc allowed the subject change, and John looked over to where Alexander was sitting in the front row, scribbling furiously.

“He's not my boyfriend. _Yet_.” He added, smirking at Herc.

“Get your man. What time do you think you'll be able to be at the Revolution tonight?” Herc asked, swatting Peggy’s hand away from his beanie.

“Probably not until eightish, I need to stay late and prep for the next lab, my partners are idiots. I'll probably end up getting a head start on the calculations too.” John mused, spinning his pencil around his finger.

“John, you are going to run yourself to the ground.” Herc sighed, and John shook his head.

“I’m fine, I’m gonna catch up on sleep Sunday.” He promised, glancing behind him and discretely gave a thumbs up to Peggy, who was waving Herc’s beanie triumphantly above her head.

“Mhmm.” Herc hummed, unimpressed, but before they could continue Washington flicked the lights back on, and the college students made a sound not unlike a chorus of vampires being exposed to the daylight.

“I'll see you all on Monday, please refrain from punching anyone or getting punched until then.” Washington announced, and the students started gathering up their stuff and heading out the door.

“Ugh.” John groaned as he stood up and cracked his back, stretching his arms above his head.

“How was your nap _monsieur_?” Laf’s teasing voice came from behind him, and John turned to see him smiling, notebook and laptop in hand.

“Not long enough. Hey, have you heard from coach about Saturday’s practice?” John asked, pulling his backpack out from under the desk and shoving in his blank notebook and iPad.

“Starts at nine, will probably go until noon.” Peggy chimed in, and John nodded, looking up at the Schuyler sisters.

“Cool. I'll probably go to your dad’s house right after.” He said, and Eliza smiled.

“Oh good, you can come. I think we’re playing Ticket to Ride, it's less likely to turn… hostile.” Eliza coughed, and Peggy started laughing.

“You mean I'm less likely to tackle John and Dad’s less likely to threaten to disown Angelica?” She got out, and Herc barked out a laugh.

“I'm torn between wanting in on these Schuyler family game nights and being very afraid.” He shook his head, and John grinned.

“Stay far far away, you don't know true fear until you look into the eyes of a Schuyler sister and realize you are in their way.” John shivered, and Angelica smirked.

“Ok, don't pin it all on us, you're just as terrifying.” Peggy shot back, and John grinned.

“Yes, but the difference between you and me is the fact that I'm cute.” He said, but before they could continue he felt someone tap in his shoulder, and he spun around to see Alexander standing there with a sheepish smile.

“Hey Hamilton!” He greeted, and Alexander grinned, messenger bag slung over his shoulder and hands stuffed in his green hoodie’s pockets, and _holy shit was that a bisexual flag pin on his messenger bag_? John shifted so he could check, and holy shit it _was_ , this was _fantastic!_

“Hi! I heard yelling and board games, should I be worried?” He asked, and John just shook his head and prayed his elation wasn’t too visible. A quick glance at Peggy crushed that hope, she was staring at him with a shit-eating grin that told John she had seen everything. She wiggled her eyebrows gleefully, and John grinned back and winked, then tuned back into the conversation.

“It's the Schuyler family game night,” Laf was laughing, “which apparently turn vicious.”

“I just want to point out that Peggy was the one who tackled me, the only thing I've ever started is a kicking match under the table with Eliza!” John jumped back into the conversation, and Alex’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“You're a Schuyler? I thought you said your surname was Laurens.” He asked, and John bit his lip as he felt Eliza put a supporting hand on his back.

“He’s pretty much the son dad always wanted but never got.” Peggy said, saving John from answering. throwing Herc’s beanie to Laf who caught it with a grin.

“Are we going to stand here all afternoon or are we going to go to the park like we planned?” Angelica tossed over her shoulder, turning and walking down the aisle, leaving the others to follow. John pulled on his coat and hat. It was fucking freezing out, and it was only November. Granted, it was practically December, but whatever. This winter was gonna suck. Peggy linked arms with him and Herc, and the group made their way down the center aisle.

“See you later General!” He called, and Washington waved a hand in acknowledgment, barely looking up from his paper.

The group burst out of the building onto the snowy campus, the pathways thankfully plowed. There was about four inches of snow on the ground, nothing too dramatic. Last year they'd gotten over three feet in January, classes had been canceled for a week.

“So how's the orphanage?” He asked Eliza, who was now walking besides him, clad in a light blue coat and matching earmuffs.

“It's fantastic, next year I’ll officially start my internship, for now I'm still just a volunteer. The kids are all so sweet, I'm a heartbeat away from adopting them all myself. They deserve so much more.” Eliza sighed, and John smiled, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

“I'll have to stop in sometime, it's been forever since I've volunteered. How's Frances?” He asked, smiling at the memory of his favourite kid at the orphanage.

“She's great! She's loving kindergarten, you should see her Sunday nights, she's so excited to go to school, I wish I still had that kind of motivation. Oh, she was asking about you the other day, she was amazed when I told her you were working at a hospital. Now she's on a doctor craze, terrorizing the other kids until they let her give them a ‘checkup’.” Eliza made air quotes around checkup, and John laughed, shaking his head.

“That settles it, I'm visiting Sunday. Maybe I'll see if I can borrow a stethoscope from storage to give to her, she'd love that. I'm technically not supposed to be in any more hours this week, but Betsey loves me, and if I explain the situation she'd let me in.” John decided, who needed to catch up on sleep anyway? This was more important.

“As long as it works with her aides.” Eliza said, leaning into John as a cold gust of wind whipped around them.

“I'll make sure to find a pair that will.” John promised, and Eliza smiled gratefully.

“You're an angel. How's the hospital?” She asked, and John grinned.

“A madhouse, as always. I'm still not allowed much time as I'd like in the ER, I'm mostly shadowing clinical doctors. I'm hoping to transfer to pediatrics in January, get some experience there. It'll probably tear my heart out every day, but if I can help the kids, it'll be worth it.” John said, stuffing his free hand in his pocket.

“For the kids.” Eliza murmured and nodded, looking down at the ground. John glanced around, frowning when he saw a small crowd gathered near the giant statue of George King the First. God, John hated that thing. He’d probably end up egging it before he graduated. Maybe some graffiti….

“Ugh, Seabury alert.” Herc groaned, and John closer to see a figure standing on what seemed to be a frikin soapbox (Seriously, who even does that anymore, it’s the twenty first century), a small crowd surrounding him.

“I don't have time for this. I'm going to the park, I'll see you all there when he’s done.” Angelica rolled her eyes, breaking away from her conversation with Alexander and started walking the opposite direction.

“I'll go with her, just in case.” Eliza decided, squeezing John’s hand before dropping it and before heading towards her sister.

“Me too.” Peggy said quickly, and the two Schuylers ran to catch up with Angelica, and the three sisters linked arms, their signature colors bright against the white snow.

“Just in case what?” Alexander asked, and Herc shook his head.

“We can explain later. Now, you're going to hear your first Seabury speech.” He said, walking over towards the crowd.

“Seabury?” Alexander asked, and John rolled his eyes.

“Samuel Seabury. He's not a Redcoat, not rich enough, but he's one of their biggest lackeys. He has this annoying habit of just repeating himself over and over again, getting louder every time. Just listen for a couple minutes, you'll see.” He explained, and as the group approached he could make out Seabury’s speech.

“Hear ye! Hear ye!” Seabury cried, apparently was just starting his speech. (And seriously, what was with the eighteenth century theme?)

“See, about now I would usually be standing on the soapbox yelling overtop him, but I can count four Redcoats in the crowd and I promised Washington I'd stay out of trouble.” John muttered to Alex, who nodded distractedly, craning his neck to see above the crowd.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” A voice muttered in John’s ear, and John whipped around to find Aaron, bundled up in a dark grey coat and red scarf.

“Yeah, I know.” John sighed, turning his attention back to Seabury, who had apparently decided he had gathered a large enough crowd in order for him to continue.

“My name is Samuel Seabury, and I present free thought on the proceedings of the collegiate debate teams!” He cried, and John rolled his eyes, silently praying for a bolt of lightening to strike Seabury down where he stood.

“Heed not the rebels who scream revolution! They have not your interests at heart!” He practically fucking sang, and John was really regretting promising Washington that he'd keep his nose clean.

“Oh my god, tear this dude apart.” Herc groaned, and John shook his head, glancing at Alex, who was watching Seabury like a hawk.

“Chaos and bloodshed are not a solution, don't let them lead you astray. Those rebels do not speak for me!”

“Let him be.” Burr muttered, and John exchanged disgusted glances with Laf. Someone needed to shut this guy up.

“They're playing a dangerous game. I pray George King shows you his mercy! For shame! For shame!” Seabury continued, and John prayed this would be the end of his rant, because he was getting closer and closer to punching someone with every word.

“Wait, where'd Alex go?” Herc whispered, and John whipped his head around to the spot where Alexander had been standing just moments before.

“Heed-” Seabury started, but then was interrupted by a very familiar voice.

“Yo! He’d have you all unravel at the sound of screams-”

“Not the rebels who scream revolution! They-”

“The revolution is coming! The have-nots are gonna win this-”

“Not your interests at heart!”

“It's hard to listen to you with a straight face.” Alexander complained as Seabury took a breath, and John was swooning.

“Chaos and bloodshed-” Seabury tried to speak over Alexander, but was again met with another verbal rebuttal.

“Already haunt us! Honestly, you shouldn't even talk-”

“Are not a solution! Don't let them lead you-”

“Look at the cost, n’ all that we lost and you talk about rebels!”

“ _THESE REBELS_ do not speak for me!” Seabury again increased his volume, looking a bit frantic.

“ _My dog_ speaks more elegantly!” Alexander interrupted again, and John’s smile spread even wider, if that was possible, and he cupped his hands around his mouth and whined like a dog, and he swore he saw Alexander flash him a brief grin before going back to completely destroying Seabury.

“He’s gonna get himself killed.” Burr muttered besides him, and started pushing through the crowd before John could stop him.

“They're playing a dangerous game!” Seabury cried, stepping down from his soapbox and shifting it a couple feet to the left, away from Alexander, as if the distance would deter Alexander.

“But strangely your mange is the same!” Alexander just followed Seabury, looking more and more annoyed by the minute.

“I pray George King shows you his mercy!”

“Is he on campus?” Alexander threw his hands up, exaggeratedly looking around. Besides John, Herc lost it and doubled over, laughing loudly.

“FOR SHAME!”

“FOR THE REVOLUTION!”

_“FOR SHAME!”_

_**“FOR THE REVOLUTION!”**_ The various Revolutionaries in the crowd joined in on the second battle cry, which seemed to give Alexander an extra push. He climbed up on the soapbox besides Seabury, and John was a goner.

“I'm in love.” He muttered dreamily to Laf, who just shook his head in amazement and then the debaters were off again.

“Heed-” This time Alexander didn't wait for Seabury to pause, he just started talking over Seabury, who looked downright panicked at this point, his speech faltering.

“If you repeat yourself again I’m gonna-”

“Scream!” Both men cried in unison, Seabury looking like he was about to do just that.

“Honestly, look at me, please don't _breathe_!”

“ _Not your interests-”_

“Don't modulate the key then not debate with me! Why should a spoiled tyrant be free to regulate the price of tea!?” Alexander cried indignantly, but before he could continue Burr was besides him, dragging him off the soapbox.

“Alexander, please!” Burr pleaded, but Alex pushed him away and looked even more angry.

“Burr I'd rather be divisive than indecisive, trump the niceties!” Alex spat, and turned around like he was ready to go back to tearing into Seabury, but loud footsteps came pounding down the pathway. John turned and saw Paul Revere sprinting down the path, waving his arms and shouting “KING’S COMING, KING’S COMING!”

Immediately the crowd dispersed, Redcoats and Revolutionaries alike running in every direction to avoid having to listen to another of King’s speeches. “Go, I'll get Hamilton!” John told Laf and Herc, who nodded and sprinted down the path. John turned and shoved through the crowd, trying to find Alexander.

He finally spotted him near the soapbox, looking slightly panicked. John didn't see Burr, he probably bolted and forgot about Alexander.

“Alexander, come on! We've got to get out of here, you'll get plenty of other chances to destroy Seabury!” John grinned, grabbing Alexander’s hand and dragging him behind him, sprinting in the direction of the campus park.

“Wait what’s going on?” Alex asked, and John glanced back at him.

“King. Trust me, you don't want to tangle with him in person. One wrong word and you're expelled, no matter who you are.” John explained, gripping Alex’s hand tighter when he saw the look on his face. “Seriously Alex, we needed to move. You can yell at King all you want in Brooklyn over the weekend!”

Alex didn't respond, but he kept running behind John, so John took it as grudging acceptance and moved on.

“You were fucking awesome back there!” John tossed over his shoulder as they ran, grinning at Alexander.

“That moron couldn't defend himself if he tried, he made it all too easy.” Alexander panted, and John slowed down to a speed walk, (And so what if he didn't let go of Alexander’s hand, they might need to run more later, this was saving time and energy.)

“Still! I sure as hell couldn't of come up with that all on the spot, you've got talent.” John replied, breathing through his tight chest and looking around for Herc and Laf.

“Oh, um, thanks!” Alex said, and John squeezed his hand instead of replying.

“So, where are we going?” Alex changed the subject as John guided them through campus.

“Remember everyone planned to meet up at the park after Washington’s class?” John asked, before something occurred to him. “Oh shit, you never agreed to that, did you have other plans? I'm sorry, I just realized I kinda kidnapped you.” John said sheepishly, dropping Alex’s hand and scratching the back of his neck.

“No it's fine! I mean, I was going to go back to my dorm to write a paper-” Alex started, and John deflated, inwardly cursing himself.

“Oh geez, I'm sorry, I should have asked.” John started, but Alex shook his head and cut him off.

“C’mon Laurens, I wasn't finished. I can work on the paper at the park or wherever, if you'll take me there, because I have no idea where anything is on this campus.” Alexander continued, and John grinned, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Ok good, sorry, I get carried away sometimes. But anyway, every time I see you, you're writing, do you ever stop?” He asked, turning and beginning to walk.

“Never.” Alex replied, and John felt a hand slip into his, and had to suppress a very undignified squeal because holy fuck Alexander Hamilton was holding his hand. His chest was still tightening in what he hoped was excitement, so he elected to ignore it in favor of focusing on the tiny circles Alex’s thumb was tracing on his hand.

“A workaholic then?” John asked, coughing slightly and internally groaning. He absent mindedly pulled his coat collar away from his throat, trying to focus on his conversation with Alexander instead of his stupid fucking lungs.

“That's a bit of an understatement.” Alex laughed, and John half smiled, shaking his head.

“I can relate, I swear sometimes I spend more time in the lab than I do in my bed.” He laughed, then paused, realizing the validity of his statement. “Oh my god, I spend more time in the lab than I do in bed.”

“I'm partial to the library myself, which is gorgeous here.” Alexander gushed, and John nodded, craning his neck to look for the closest building, as much as he hated to admit it, he really should get out of the cold before he had an attack.

“Ugh, it's freezing.” John muttered as another gust of wind blew across campus, shifting his attention back to his companion. “I'll be glad when- Alexander Hamilton!” He yelled, momentarily distracted (Which in hindsight was not a good idea).

“What?!” Alex squeaked, and John groaned.

“You aren't wearing a fucking coat! Or a hat! Or gloves! In case you hadn't noticed, it's like zero degrees out!” He ranted, taking in Alexander’s bright red ears and the way he was hunched over in the wind.

“I didn't think about it! And besides, this is my heaviest sweatshirt, I'm fine John.” Alex rolled his eyes, and John groaned again.

“Great, another idiot with no self preservation! Gimme your other hand.” He ordered, tugging one of his gloves off.

“What?! No John, keep your gloves, I’m fine!” Alex protested, but John ignored him in favor of stuffing Alex’s fingers into the glove. One he succeeded, John yanked off his hat (Herc had made that too, it was knitted a turtle shell pattern, John fucking loved it) and shoved it on Alexander’s head, initiating another flurry of protests.

“John stop, I'm fine! You need these as much as I do-” he tried to argue, but John was having none of it.

“You're wearing them, end of discussion. You want to argue with a pre med on the dangers of frostbite? I didn't think so. So wear the damn hat and glove, and I'll keep this hand warm,” John grinned and squeezed the hand he was still holding, “and we’ll both be fine. Got it?” He challenged, and Alexander glared at him for a minute before staring at the ground and muttering under his breath. (John caught a couple phrases, the highlights being ‘self sacrificing idiot,’ ‘fucking fine’, and John’s personal favourite, ‘motherfucking freckles.’)

“Speaking of health, I should really be getting inside.” John admitted, coughing, then wheezing slightly as the wind picked up. “Jesus.”

“I told you to keep the fucking hat! Wait, what's wrong?” Alexander asked, and John tried for a smile.

“Nothing big, I just have asthma and it acts up a lot in the cold. I'll be fine once I get inside and take a hit from my inhaler.” He said, doing his best to take deep breaths.

“John! Why didn’t you say something, come on you're getting inside.” Alex demanded, yanking him towards a building a little while away. “And you were lecturing me about neglecting my health!”

“I'm not going to die, just need my inhaler.” John rolled his eyes, letting himself be dragged behind Alexander.

“You could die! Asthma isn't a fucking joke!” Alexander shot back, they were near the building, which John recognized as the Business Hall.

“I know when it's getting bad, my lungs haven't decided to quit on me yet.” John said, but Alexander didn't respond, just tightened his grip on John’s hand.

“In.” He ordered, opening the door and shoving John inside.

“Thanks.” John wheezed, dammit he hadn't realized he had gotten this bad. He swung his backpack off his shoulder and unzipped the front pocket, grabbing his inhaler. He quickly shook it, then exhaled and took a hit, smiling wanly at Alexander while he held his breath. Alexander was watching him, a worried expression displayed prominently.

John released his breath, breathing in and out before he determined he didn't need another hit. He shoved his inhaler back into his backpack, zipping it closed before turning back to Alexander.

“Sorry about that, I've dealt with it since I was small, I should have realized I needed to go in sooner.” He apologized, and Alex immediately shook his head.

“No don't apologize, it's not your fault. Besides, I'm pretty sure this is where my next class is anyway, so it worked out.” Alexander replied, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Cool! Did you have time to hang out? I could walk you to the park if you still wanted to go, it's on the way to my next class.” John offered, fidgeting with the straps of his backpack (Anything really to distract him from staring at Alexander too damn long and making things weird).

“You have to go to class?” Alexander asked, and John nodded, grimacing. “I've got linear algebra then a lab, but I could still drop you off with the others.” He said, but Alex shook his head.

“Thanks, but I think I'll get to class early, talk to the professor about what I've missed.” He said, and John nodded, shouldering his backpack.

“Ok. I'll see you tonight then!” He smiled, turning to walk out, but before he could go he felt a hand grab his arm, and he turned back to see a nervous looking Alexander.

“Ah… the other night, at the coffee shop. You gave me your number, and I promptly spilled coffee all over it. Give it to me again?” He asked, and John grinned.

“Sure. Got a pen?” He asked, and Alexander dug around in his bag before producing a sharpie. John uncapped the pen with his teeth, grabbing Alex’s hand and writing his number on the back of it.

“Try not to chop your hand off.” John joked, glancing up at Alexander.

“I'll do my best, that would be a bit of an inconvenience to my nonstop writing, as you so kindly put it.” He replied, and John grinned and shoved the cap back on the sharpie.

“See you tonight!” He said, handing back the pen and turning to open the door.

“Adieu John Laurens, until we meet again.” Alex called, and John flashed him a grin over his shoulder, opening the door to the cold November air.

\---

“Ugh.” John muttered, wincing as he walked into The Revolution. He was pressing his glove against his forehead, trying to staunch the flow of blood from above his eye. James Madison winced from behind the counter, and turned and dashed into the supply closet. John blinked hard as blood dripped into his eye and pressed the glove down harder, hissing at the pain.

“Fucking Christ.” Angelica hissed, jumping up from her seat in the corner of the shop and quickly walked over to John, the rest of their friends watching with worry displayed prominently on their faces. “Do you have names?”

“It was dark and their hoods were up. Ow, _motherfucker_.” John swore as Angelica peeled the glove from his face.

“Did they pull a knife? This is probably gonna need stitches.” She said, gently probing the cut.

“Ow, stop it! No knife, they jumped me by the Cube and I hit my head. And it won't need stitches, I checked when there was less blood, I just need to get my bandages and tape.” John said, batting Angelica’s hands away and putting the glove back over the cut.

“You should have called us when you were done, you know it's not safe to walk around campus alone, especially when it's dark.” Angelica snapped, yanking John over to the counter where James was waiting with a wet paper towel.

“Thanks.” John muttered, accepting the paper towel. He dropped his bloody glove onto the counter, and started dabbing at his forehead, washing away the blood.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Angelica demanded, and John shook his head.

“Nothing major, breathing will be a bitch for a while but that's about it.” John said, putting down the paper towel and rummaging in his bag for gauze and tape.

“Do you need your inhaler?” Angelica demanded, grabbing the bag and digging through it.

“Not right now, had to take a hit right after I ran, but I'll keep it close.” John replied, unrolling some tape and taping the gauze to his forehead.

“Next time, you call me.” Angelica hissed, jabbing his forehead with her finger and then spun on her heel and walked back to where their friends were all watching anxiously. John groaned internally, he knew he should have called one of them, but he thought the walk across campus was short enough, and he was texting Martha about Jemmy’s birthday and hadn't noticed the figures walking towards him until it was too late.

He walked over to where his friends were waiting, and gratefully accept the mug Herc handed to him with a worried smile.

“Did I miss anything exciting?” John tried to break the tension, setting the mug on the table and looking around at his friends. Laf and Herc were sharing a loveseat, Laf half hanging over the arm. Angelica was on a single chair, glaring at him over the rim of her mug with a laptop balanced on her lap. Eliza was besides her on a beanbag, and Peggy was sprawled across the second love seat by herself, playing a game on her phone. Alexander was hunched over his laptop on a chair at the far side of the table, fingers flying a mile a minute.

“Not really. Alexander hasn't looked up since he got here.” Eliza admitted, and Herc snorted.

“He walked in the door, ordered a large black coffee, then sat down and started typing. All we've gotten are one word answers anytime we tried to talk to him.” Herc said, rolling his eyes.

“Watch this.” Peggy grinned, ripping a piece of loose leaf and balling it up, then threw it at Alexander. The ball hit Alexander’s cheek and bounced off, and he didn't even look up.

“Wow.” John commented, throwing himself onto Peggy’s love seat and put his head on Peggy’s lap.

“I know right. I wanted to do that thing where you keep putting ridiculous items on him until he noticed but Eliza stopped me.” Peggy grinned, then shoved John off her lap. “Move, I wanna braid your hair.”

“Sure. Actually, gimme a minute.” John said, rolling off the couch and standing up. He walked over to Alexander, still hunched over the laptop, and leaned over and tapped his forehead twice, grinning when Alexander blinked and looked up.

“John! You’re here!” He exclaimed, then did a double take. “What happened to your face?”

“I heard you haven’t looked up since you got here.” John said, ignoring Alexander's question. “Tell me, why do you write like you’re running out of time? You just got here, put your work down for an hour and take a break.”

“Wha- I’m just trying to catch up on what I missed.” Alexander protested weakly, and John rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure it can wait one more night, you have all weekend to work on whatever it is. You've only missed two weeks anyway, you'll be fine. C’mon, everyone’s here, relax for an evening.” John said firmly, tugging the laptop out of Alexander’s grasp and slipping in into the messenger bag besides his seat.

“How the hell does he do it? Everyone listens to John!” Herc laughed, and John grinned, turning and sitting on the floor between Peggy’s legs and handed her a hair tie from around his wrist.

“It’s the freckles. They're magic. Works on everyone except Redcoats.” John shot back, making grabby hands for his café de olla, just out of reach on the coffee table.

“Redcoats do not count as people.” Laf sniffed as Eliza slid John’s drink over to him.

“True.” John hooded, absentmindedly probing his cut, smoothing down the tape. “Who would want to vandalize this work of art?” He smirked, tracing a circle in the air around his face

“Wait, did Redcoats do that to you? That’s assault, John you should report that-” Alexander started, but Angelica cut him off.

“That won't do any good, we’ve tried. They always get off free, and we get blamed for starting fights. It's one of the risks of the revolution. Since you've joined, and especially because of that stint with Seabury, you really shouldn’t walk alone on campus, especially after dark.” She said, scowling.

“Seriously? That’s so messed up.” Alexander complained, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees.

“I know, but it’s the way things are.” Eliza sighed, and Peggy growled, tugging a piece of John’s hair a little hard than strictly necessary.

“Hey! Don’t take it out on my fucking hair!” John protested, reaching behind him and swatting Peggy’s arm.

“Oh toughen up.” She retorted, yanking on his hair again.

“So you said the next tournament is in Brooklyn?” Alexander asked, taking a sip of coffee and wrinkling his nose.

“Yeah, next weekend. There's gonna be a ton of Redcoats there, so our chances aren't the greatest.” Peggy said, and Alexander frowned.

“Why? From what I saw at practice you guys looked really good.” He said, and Angelica shook her head.

“The Redcoats have won the national tournament for the last seven years, and they’re still leading in the national rankings. The problem isn't that we don't have the talent, we are damn good, it's just hard to rack up points because the other teams outnumber us drastically, we get overwhelmed by sheer numbers.” Angelica said, rolling her eyes.

“So where are we standing?” Alexander asked, and Eliza pulled out her phone, unlocking it and swiping up a few times.

“Currently we’re thirty fifth, which is pretty impressive for a team our size. We just need to keep fighting on.” She said, setting her phone back down and brushing her hair out of her eyes.

“But our uniforms are kickass! No one forget we have that advantage!” Herc piped up, and John grinned gleefully.

“Especially compared to the Redcoats. Their sleeves have frills! Lace frills!” He giggled a bit maniacally, and Peggy kicked his side.

“Keep still, I'm almost done. Herc, have you started on Alex’s uniform yet?” She asked, and Herc’s eyes widened.

“Shit, I completely forgot! Alex could you meet me in the design lab sometime this weekend so I can get your measurements?” He asked, and Alexander looked startled.

“Yeah! You make the uniforms?” He asked, and Herc nodded proudly.

“I'm majoring in design, so I'm pretty good at sewing if I do say so myself.” He said, and Alexander grinned, and damn if that did not make John swoon like a teenaged girl.

“That's awesome!” He exclaimed, and Laf nodded in agreement.

“Oui, he is very useful when one needs fashion advice, he has a great eye.” Laf grinned, and leaned over and squeezed Herc’s biceps. “And not difficult on the eyes either.”

“Save it for Adrienne.” Herc grumbled, rolling his eyes with a small smile.

“Done.” Peggy announced, dropping John’s hair and pushing him off her legs.

“Thanks Margarita.” John smirked, flattening himself to the floor to avoid Peggy’s kick.

“Wait, your name is Margarita?” Alex asked, and John cackled, then paid for it dearly when Peggy planted her heel in his back.

“It's Peggy to all of you. I swear my parents were drunk when they named me.” Peggy groaned while John sat up, wincing and glaring at Peggy.

“It's a very unique name, it's pretty.” Eliza tried, and Herc tried to disguise his laughter in a coughing fit.

“Watch it Disney boy.” Peggy growled, and Herc shut up quickly, raising his hands in surrender.

“I'm out, I'm out.” He said hastily, and Laf snorted into his mug.

“And you! You have like fifteen names Frenchie!” Peggy rounded on Lafayette, and he sniffed and held his head up high.

“I come from a long line of noble-” He began, and John threw a pencil at his face.

“We get it, you're better than us.” He rolled his eyes, half laughing. Peggy’s phone buzzed by his head, and he passed it to Peggy without looking at it.

“Betsy, dad just texted, he wanted us back by sundown and we’ve missed that by a long shot, he's getting cranky.” Peggy groaned, and Angelica rolled her eyes.

“We’d better go. John, you staying at your apartment tonight?” She asked, and John nodded. “Then don't forget to change the bandages and put on neosporin, if that cut gets infected I'll kill you.” She threatened, standing and glaring pointedly at John, who rolled his eyes.

“I do know how to take care of myself.” He grumbled, and Peggy snorted.

“I'd have to see it to believe it. See you at practice Johnny boy.” She said, patting his head and walking towards the exit, pulling on her coat.

“Be careful all of you,” Eliza said, standing as well and biting her lip, “don’t do anything stupid, don't walk across campus alone, John don't forget your inhaler here-”

“Thanks ‘Liza.” John interrupted gently from his place on the floor, and Eliza sighed and shook her head.

“I'm sorry, I worry. I’ll see you all tomorrow then.” She said, mustering a smile and walking towards the door.

“Goodbye my angel.” Laf called extravagantly, blowing a kiss which made Eliza roll her eyes and laugh.

“What, no kisses for the rest of us?” Herc complained, and Eliza laughed again, turning and walking to her sisters, who were waiting for her by the door.

“You’re cute.” She tossed over her shoulder, then Angelica pushed open the door, cold air blowing into the room, and then the Schuyler sisters were gone.

“I'm gonna go too, Paul will be here around ten. Y’all can handle any customers that come in.” James said, untying his apron and hanging it up.

“Don't forget your meds.” Herc called, and James rolled his eyes.

“Yes mom.” He sighed, and John laughed at Herc’s disgruntled expression.

“See you Monday, John, Laf.” James said, jogging out the door to catch up with the Schuyler Sisters.

“And then there were four.” John whispered, wiggling his eyebrows at his friends, then wincing when he aggravated the cut.

“Your hair looks nice.” Alexander commented, and John smiled, looking over at Alexander, whose hair was pulled back in a low ponytail.

“I could do yours if you wanted.” He offered, and Alex considered, then nodded. John jumped up, doing his best to ignore the giggling of his friends (And maybe his foot slipped and planted itself in Laf’s shin, so what).

“You might want to sit on the floor, that way I could do a French braid.” John said, and Alexander obliged and John climbed onto the chair he vacated.

“So Alexandre,” Laf began, “you've seen what happens to members of this Revolution, are you sure you still want to be involved? There is no shame if you want to - what is it? oh yes, back out.”

“If you stand for nothing, what will you fall for?” Alexander asked, and John’s fingers froze, his breath catching.

“So whatcha goin’ do?” Herc asked, and John took a deep breath, already predicting Alexander’s answer.

“I am not throwing away my shot.” Alexander said with conviction, and John shook his head and half smiled, pulling in another strand of hair.

“No, seriously. What type of person would I be if I didn't stand up to King? I've only been here a week and I can already see the effect he has on this college, and it's not a good one. His Redcoats,” Alexander spat the term with bitter sarcasm, “are terrorizing you guys, and what type of friend would I be to step back and let that happen? I mean I never had a group of friends before, but I promise I'll make you all proud.” Alex wavered slightly, and Laf leaned forward, a wide smile on his face.

“I can't wait to see you in front of a crowd.” He said, laughing slightly. “Your words, mon ami, are going to fight for you.”

“That's the plan.” John couldn't see Alex’s face, but he could practically feel the determination radiating from Alexander.

“So what else is in your big plan Alexander?” Herc shattered the moment, as John finished the braid and slipped a hair tie off his wrist.

“Survive college.” Alexander laughed, and John hopped up from the chair.

“You look amazing, but I can only take credit for the hair.” He winked, and Alexander spluttered. John laughed at Alexander’s stunned expression, and settled back onto the love seat.

“So Alex, rumor has it that you were accepted on full scholarship. ” Herc said, and John’s eyebrows flew up. Holy shit, that was impressive, and besides, how did Herc hear these things? Honestly, anytime anything happened on campus, Herc always knew.

“Ah, yes.” Alex replied, trying -and failing- to sound modest. “I was top of my class at Princeton, I kinda want to do a repeat performance here.”

“Hear that John?! You've got competition!” Herc quipped, and John sighed and rolled his eyes.

“You mean William Howe has competition.” He complained, shaking his head.

“He does not count, he is sitting on a throne of lies and bribery.” Laf said disdainfully, pouring half his coffee into- a bowl? What the fuck? “As far as everyone else is concerned you are the top of our class.”

“You're top of the- Oh shit I'm sorry I didn't mean to steal your spot, I mean I did but it's you so I didn't mean it that way-” Alexander said in a rush of words, and John laughed and shook his head.

“Dude chill, it's fine.” He said, smiling at Alexander. “You want to beat me, go for it, I'm not gonna hate you.”

“Oh ok. Good.” Hamilton blew out a sigh of relief,

“So where were you from before Princeton?” John asked, curious. Alexander had a slight accent, but he couldn't place.

“Ah… South.” Alexander said evasively, and John nodded, careful not to react.

“Cool. I'm from South Carolina myself.” John said, ignoring the muffled sound of shock that came from Hercules.

“South Carolina? And your last name is Laurens, right?” Alexander asked, and John froze, not liking where this line of questioning was going.

“...Yeah.” He stalled, frantically trying to think of a way to derail this conversation, because he could tell where this was going and he was not going there tonight.

“Alexander, do you live on campus?” Laf broke in, and John breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, I have to live on campus for the scholarship.” Alex replied disdainfully, thankfully distracted.

“We’ll walk you back, just in case. Don't want you ending up looking like John.” Herc said, waving his hand in John’s general direction. John scrunched his nose and stuck out his tongue, not bothering to fake maturity.

“I fail to see why that’s a bad thing, I mean have you seen him? Hot damn.” Alexander smirked, and John grinned back, winking.

“Ugh, get in a closet.” Laf groaned, and John stared and blinked at Laf, then doubled over and cracked up, nearly falling off the seat.

“Get a room, not a closet. Closets are extremely different in this context.” Herc shook his head, John still wheezing helplessly. It wasn't even that funny, but he was so fucking overtired fucking everything was hilarious.

“Is he ok?” John dimly heard Alexander ask, which made him laugh harder, rolling off the seat and onto the floor with a thud.

“Ok, you're done.” John could practically hear Herc rolling his eyes, and then arms were wrapped around him, and he was lifted back onto the seat.

“I'm done. I-I'm done.” John got out, but he was still half-shaking with suppressed laughter. He coughed a few times, then took another look at Alexander (who was staring at him half concerned half confused), and promptly lost it again.

“I did not realize my comment would trigger such an episode.” Lad said incredulously, shoving John over so he could sit besides him. “I merely wished that you and Alexander would take your flirtations elsewhere.”

“French fucker, if I have to put up with listening to your sappy conversations with Adrienne then you can shut your mouth while I compliment the man.” John got out as he finally calmed down, and Herc nodded in agreement.

“I second that. Don't get me wrong, I love Adrienne, but you guys are unbearable sometimes.” He groaned.

“At least you don't understand when they switch to French! They're even worse then! Adrienne is Laf’s girlfriend. Lovely girl, wears killer heels, will fuck you up in a heartbeat.” John added for Alexander’s benefit, and Alexander nodded knowingly.

“So you're from France. When did you come over here?” He asked Lafayette, who beamed.

“I came to this marvelous country during the summer to prepare for being an exchange student this year, I simply could not wait the extra months. I met the lovely Schuyler family a few days after I arrived, and they took me under their wing and helped me assimilate to the country.” Laf said grandly, and John snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Me and Peggy found him in a Denny’s at two in the morning harassing the cashier.” He corrected. “Peggy thought Laf was cute, so we dragged him away and bought him pancakes. Then once we found out he had literally not slept since he arrived in America we took him home with us, and he just ended up staying with us until he bought an apartment.”

“Nice.” Alex laughed, and Laf rolled his eyes.

“I was not harassing him! I was just curious about this country!” He protested, and Alex nodded.

“So you’re here for school?” He asked, and Laf shrugged.

“Not really. I was bored in France, I wanted to get out, experience the world. Then once John and Angelica told me about your struggles against King, I vowed not to leave until you are free from his rule. Tell the King casse-toi, who's the best? C’est moi.” Laf grinned, and Herc hooted appreciatively.

“Wow, fightin words.” Alexander commented, settling back into his seat. “How ‘bout you Herc?”

“I was just here to go to school, first in my family.” Herc smiled proudly, and John raised his mug in a toast. “My mother kept going on about how I would socially advance and all that shit.” He laughed, shaking his head. “She was not as thrilled when I decided to major in design. She came around when she realized I wasn't just going to be sewing pants the rest of my life. I mean, it is a possibility, but I'm willing to take that shot.”

“Take a shot.” John laughed at the repetition, the phrase that was seeping into all of their vocabulary.

“And you Laurens?” Alexander asked him, setting down his mug. “What are you here to do?”

“Not anything as noble as those morons.” John muttered. “I applied, got in, then just kept my head down and worked my ass off until King pissed me off. He made this stupid speech about how he was so happy that there was finally equality in the world and how he never experienced any type of discrimination. Just because he never experienced it doesn't mean it's not out there! It just fucking pisses me off that that type of underhand racism and sexism is still rampant. We’ll never be truly free until those in bondage have the same rights and privileges as everyone else. We've gotta rise up, and for us that starts with getting rid of King and his privileged ass.”

“My word Laurens, and you say you hate public speaking.” Herc shook his head, and John scoffed.

“Oh please, you morons don't count.” He laughed, and looked up to see Alex’s eyes on him, staring intently.

“If we’re gonna take down King we’ve gotta think past tomorrow.” Alex spoke suddenly. “We have to be smart, pick our battles. They've got the advantage, but we can do it, I've faced these odds before-” Alex faltered slightly, “and I've beaten them. We’re gonna do it again, take King down.”

“We’re gonna rise up.” John grinned.

“It's time to take a shot.” Alex shot back, cocking an eyebrow.

“King has to go down,” Herc narrowed his eyes, “so we gotta take the shot.”

“We gotta rise up.” John repeated, leaning forward, a sudden buzz of excitement rushing through him. He glanced around him and it was evident that the others felt the buzz, all of them half out of their seats and grinning.

“It's time to take a shot.” Laf said, accent thickening in the excitement.

“It's time to take a shot-”

“We've gotta shout it to the rooftop, tell them that we’ve gotta rise up-”

“Gotta take a shot-” They were overlapping each other in their excited frenzy, mind racing excitement growing-

“Rise up-”

“It's time to take a shot-”

“And I am not throwing away my shot.” Alexander and John practically shouted together, and it hung in the air with ringing finality. The four men stood in a circle in the empty coffee shop, breathing hard, and John could feel it in the air.

_Revolution._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, figured it was about time to introduce myself. 
> 
> The name is Cora, nice to meet you all, I'm sure we'll all be lovely friends until I kill off your favourite character. 
> 
> So the feedback I've gotten so far is generally positive, thank you to anyone who reviewed, you made my day. I'll start replying to them this chapter, before I was too busy squeaking and flailing my arms. 
> 
> If y'all had any questions about this 'verse or anything else, feel free to comment or shoot me a message, it might take me a few to respond due to the aforementioned flailing of arms. 
> 
> Just some quick general info before you continue on with your existence. This book will be split into three parts, nine chapters in the first part, seven chapters in the second part, nine chapters in the third part, and an epilogue. (Yes, I chose those numbers for a reason, fight me).
> 
> This has gone on long enough. I'll explain more about the 'verse at the end of subsequent chapters, have a lovely day, the world is so much more beautiful with you in it.


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